trewn over the floor testified to a preliminary
skirmish. As we entered the door leading from the cellar stairs Ivan
jumped down and ran out the rear door, while La Violette grabbed up a
butcher-knife from a table and gave chase to him.

"For the love of Mike, now what?" exclaimed Holmes.

Following our leader we piled out the rear door after the two cooks.
Running down the flight of stone steps to the rear lawn, the two
started a grand chase along the brick walk leading to the stables; but
Holmes's long legs were too much for them, and in a trice he had
captured Louis and disarmed him, while Ivan hid behind a tree.
Blumenroth, the gardener, digging up a flower-bed with a trowel
nearby, put down his implement, and stared at the two cooks
sardonically.

"O that miserable barbarian! I'll kill him yet!" shouted the enraged
Louis, as we gathered round him. "He had the audacity to take my very
best kettle to boil onions in, after I had told him repeatedly not to
do so. I hate onions, anyhow; and besides, I was just going to use
that kettle to prepare some peas in!"

"Oh, is that all? I thought maybe he tried to murder you," ventured
Holmes, coolly testing the edge of the butcher-knife with his finger.

"Is that all? I should think it was enough," cried Louis. "What are
you doing with Luigi's clothes on, by the way? Don't think that such a
ridiculous disguise could fool _me_."

"Far be it from me to attempt to put over anything on such an astute
person as yourself," replied Holmes suavely, while his observant eyes
caught every movement of the recreant Galetchkoff, who dodged behind
the tree every time the great detective looked in that direction. "Do
you think it probable that your friend Ivan could be implicated in the
theft of the diamond cuff-buttons, in addition to his crime with the
onions?"

"Mr. Holmes," replied Louis earnestly, "that fellow Ivan is capable of
anything. If I were you I'd search him right now. I remember now that
I saw him put something back in his pocket very hastily a little while
ago, when we were in the kitchen,--and he noticed me looking at him."

"Hum, this sounds interesting," muttered Holmes musingly. Then he
called aloud: "Ivan, come over here, and Louis will forgive you for
spoiling his best kettle with onions!"

The unsuspecting Ivan joined our little group there near an apple
tree, about halfway from the castle to the stables; and Holmes
instantly pulled out his revolver, covered